


The Grid

by Clevercookie101



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Laboratory, Angst and Feels, Human Experimentation, I'm sorry Dongju, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other additional characters to be added, POV Alternating, Scars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:15:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22039900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clevercookie101/pseuds/Clevercookie101
Summary: Kim Geonhak has been a patient since birth. He was given to the government after an accidental pregnancy. His parents were promised he'd be given to a new loving family, instead he was shipped off to a secret government lab. A lab that tests on humans. A lab that genetically modifies humans.With new tests being run everyday, Geonhak never knows who'll come back alive. He tries not to get attached to anyone, but he can't help being interested in the newest patient.
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Son Dongju | Xion
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	1. Day 0 (GH)

Geonhak stares at the pure white ceiling. He's been laying in bed wide awake since bedtime was called and the lights were shut off. He doesn't even feel tired—a side effect from the day's testings. 

Geonhak has only ever known these walls. His pod, Pod 508A, has been occupied by him for the past four years he's been in the adult ward. The children's ward is barely different, only perks are testing is less frequent and rarely lethal. Here, you never know what can kill you. 

Geonhak's resilient. The scientists are baffled by him. Even with all the tests they've done on him, he still remains the same as the day he became a patient. He still hasn't died. It's a blessing and a curse, Geonhak thinks, because his life is important to him, but now he's subject to the most testing. 

Geonhak doesn't remember much of his past. From the murmurs of the scientists he's heard, he's picked up this: his name is Kim Geonhak and he was an accidental pregnancy. His parents surrendered him to the government after they couldn't afford to raise him, he was put up for adoption, no one was interested, and he was shipped off to this facility. Now he lives here. 

Geonhak hates the facility. It's inhumane and the public has no idea it even exists. He thinks the UN would have a field day if they heard about this, of course they're probably in on it too. The lab is used to test on humans hoping to modify them to be stronger, more powerful, more _deadly_. If a human was lethal on their own, it would get rid of the need to manufacture weapons. Wars can be fought how they should be: man to man. 

How many tests has Geonhak gone through? He never learned to count that high. All he knows is that he's been though every category. Restrictions, training, injections, even surgery. Yet all have failed on him. Part of him wonders why the lab hasn't tossed him out yet. Part of him doesn't want to know what they'd do to get rid of him. 

He's heard the horror stories. Any "failed experiments" are recycled: their bodies used as fuel, vitamins and proteins extracted from them to make injections, and whatever else converted into biomass to use god knows where. But it's not always the test that kills you directly. Sometimes it backfires and they deem a patient unusable. Then they're taken to the basement where the extraction process begins. Once they're drained of everything useful, they're tossed into the flames or crushed into biomass. They do it whether you're alive or not. In this extremely gruesome process, you can scream loud enough to still be heard from the main floors. 

This is why Geonhak's learned not to become too attached to anyone. You never know if you'll see them the next day, or if you'll even be around to find out. 

Geonhak remembers the patient across from him. In Pod 508A. He couldn't have been much older than Geonhak himself. Geonhak watched as the man's pod was broken into late at night, how the guards held him down while he kicked and screamed, and how the scientists injected some fluorescent fluid into his neck. He stopped moving after that. Geonhak didn't have to keep watching to know he was dead and doomed for the incinerator. 

Geonhak turns and stares out the large window of his pod. The whole wall opposite to the electronic bolting door is made of glass. The scientists say it's to make the pods feel bigger. The patients know it's so the guards can see into every pod easier, even though there were cameras in each one. Nevertheless, the patients call the stacks of pods—five floors, ten pods on each, and two stacks of them—the Grid. Makes it feel more homey he guesses. 

Geonhak stares into the pod across from his. It's been emptied and cleaned of any trace of the previous patient. The bed is dressed in fresh linens and there's a clean set of robes on the bed. There must be a new patient coming soon. Maybe this time Geonhak will learn not to get attached. He knows he shouldn't, but when you can so easily peak into the lives of other people, you get attached. 

The only person Geonhak is truly attached to is a patient one floor down. His name is Kim Youngjo, Patient 409A, in the pod of the same number. He was the first person Geonhak met when he entered the lab. They even stayed in the same children's ward. Youngjo was moved to the adult ward earlier than Geonhak, but Geonhak soon followed. 

He's only attached because he doubts Youngjo will die. Some patients envy that about him. The scientists are careful with him because he's said to have royal blood. Youngjo calls it bullshit, but if it keeps him alive, then so be it. 

So he meets Youngjo anytime he can, when their schedules don't interfere. They revel over their latest tests, go to new ones, and return with a few new scars to showcase. Then they bid goodnight and do it all the next day. 

Geonhak wonders if Youngjo worries about losing him. He doubts it, Youngjo's a social butterfly. He's made—or attempted to make—friends with just about every patient. People say he's selfish for being able to make friends and not worry about dying on them. Geonhak knows it's harder that way. Geonhak knows how many friends Youngjo has lost. 

He continues to observe the pod across from his. He wonders who the new patient will be. Maybe a transfer from the children's ward? Or maybe a direct transfer? He wonders what they'll look like. Tall and slender? Male or female? 

He wonders how loud they'll scream when their barcode is branded onto their skin. 

The barcodes are another way the scientists dehumanize the patients. As if dressing them in all white and experimenting on them weren't enough. To the scientists, patients are only known by two things: their barcode and their number. Geonhak feels his left wrist tingle where his barcode is. Thin and thick black lines in a pattern that's meaningless to him and a small number printed below it: 508A. That's his number and the new patient's will be similar. 508B. 

Geonhak turns to lay on his back again. His racing thoughts have provided enough distraction from the energizing injections he got earlier, so he's finally feeling the lull of sleep.


	2. Day 0 (DJ)

Where is he? Why is he here? 

One moment he's eating dinner with his brother and the next? Being dragged away by federal agents. Dongju screamed and tried to hold onto Dongmyeong, but then something was injected into his neck, and he was unconscious in seconds. 

Now he's here, sitting in an all-white room strapped to a metal chair. He briefly wonders where Dongmyeong is but is interrupted as a women in a lab coat and a surgical mask walks in. She's followed by a team of similarly-dressed scientists.

"Son Dongju." His eyes flicker up to meet hers but she continues talking like he can't hear her. "Patient 508B." She reaches for something out of Dongju's vision. He catches a glimpse of something made of hot metal. "Prepare his room; let's get him checked in as soon as possible." Then she presses the red-hot metal onto Dongju's left wrist. 

He lets out a blood-curdling scream as an indescribable pain overtakes him. It's like a thousand tiny knives are simultaneously trying to cut him from the inside out. He thrashes and tries to escape the source of pain, but the chains around him tying him to the chair keep him from moving. He's already crying by the time the scientist pulls the metal away. 

He glances down at his wrist and through the tears he makes out a few black lines and a number: 508B. 

⌁

Before Dongju can even process what had happened, he's being untied, then retied but only at the wrists, and escorted out of the room. He's pushed and shoved and all of his questions go unanswered before he arrives at a door. The guard grabs Dongju's wrist violently and shoves it under a scanner of sorts. It beeps once before the doors slide open. Then he's untied and thrown onto the floor of the now open room. He spins around hoping he can escape, but the doors shut before he can even get to his feet. When he tries the scanner on the inside it lets out a more aggressive beep and flashes red instead of green. 

Dongju sighs and decides to explore the room. Not that there's much to see. The walls are completely bare save for a screen next to the door and a camera in the corner. There's a sink, a toilet, and a bed. That's it. The most surprising thing is the big gaping window replacing one of the walls. He peeks out and sees rows upon rows of rooms similar to the one he's in, however they're all unoccupied at the moment. 

Dongju turns and eyes the bed. It's a twin size, maybe even smaller, and is dressed with linens in the same plain white as the entire room. He notices the pile of clothes neatly folded on top of the bed. He looks down at his own, now tattered and dirty from his struggle, and decides he should change. He glances at the camera in the corner, flushes, and spins around so that his back is to it. Then he strips and swaps his outfit for the new one. It's hardly an outfit Dongju thinks, just plain white scrubs he's seen nurses wear. At least they're clean. 

Dongju throws his old clothes onto the floor farthest away from him. He'll deal with them later. Instead, he walks over to the window again. He lays a hand on the glass; it's cold to the touch. He tries to hit it, but it barely leaves a scratch. Must be bulletproof. His focus shifts to the pod across from his. It's identical to his, only mirrored. He can tell someone lives there because the bed is haphazardly made and the sheets are wrinkled. He wonders who does. 

He'd like to stay up and wait to see who does, but his attention is pulled to the screen next to the door. It looks high-tech for lack of a better word. All that's displayed is 508B in a bold font and a schedule below it. The only thing on it is "check-in: 6pm, lockdown 10pm." Dongju swipes the screen and the schedule changes to the next day's. 

_Alarm: 7am_

_Breakfast: 8am_

_Injections: 1pm_

_Lockdown: 10pm_

Dongju wonders what "injections" even means. He swipes back to today's schedule. The numbers glare back at him, reminding him of earlier. He looks down at his wrist. It's red and swollen but he doubts anyone will bother to treat it properly. Even on the angry skin, he can see the barcode and number. He tries to rub at it hoping it's temporary, but the sensation only makes it burn more. 

He looks back out the window. Is Dongmyeong here to? Dongju hopes he's anywhere but here, as much as he wants to curl up and cry into his brother's shoulder right now. He settles for curling up and crying on the bed. Before he knows it, exhaustion takes over. 

⌁

When Dongju wakes, he realizes the lights have been shut off. He doesn't remember seeing a light switch anywhere either. He turns and stares out the window. It seems all the other rooms' lights are shut off too. But now the beds are occupied. Everyone's asleep save for one person, two if you include Dongju himself. 

Dongju looks into the room across from his. There's a figure sitting up on the bed and Dongju can see their eyes. They're sharp, calculated, yet Dongju sees something deeper in them. Fear. Sorrow. But in a way it seems like they're trying to hide those emotions. 

The eyes snap up and meet Dongju's. They both stare at each other, unable to move. Eventually, Dongju is intimidated by the other's sharp gaze and flips over to escape it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated :)). 
> 
> Please comment if you want me to continue this, I need the encouragement. 
> 
> Also follow me on twt @Clevercookie101!


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